


flashy

by canadino



Category: Gintama
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attention seeking kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	flashy

“Sougo’s at a tender age,” Kondo says, as if he has kids of his own and knows how to handle adolescents, “where he’s in a rebellious stage. He isn’t mouthing back because he hates you. D’you remember when you were just a boy and you wanted the people around you that you liked to look at you? It’s like that.” He nods to himself, satisfied at his explanation. “He’s a good kid. A lot of things have happened to him. Let him act his age once in a while.”

“You only say that because you never get the short-end of the stick,” Hijitaka sniffs, taking care to tap the ashes of his cigarette out the patrol car window and mindfully blowing the smoke outside. The wind is blowing away from the car so it won’t come back in. “Tender age my ass. I’ve known him for almost as long as you have. He was already a hellion back at the dojo before we even left.”

“This is true,” Kondo concedes. “Some things don’t change about people, but those are usually their defining and most endearing characteristics, aren’t they?”

“There’s really nothing endearing about that kid,” Hijitaka says. Okita returns to the car with dinner for the stakeout: instant cup ramen from the convenience store. For a moment, Hijitaka is amazed he can hold three hot cups of ramen before he learns - Okita gives Kondo his steaming cup of ramen first before switching to hold his own in his dominant hand and holding out the last cup to Hijitaka. The water is barely lukewarm at best. The noodles are still hard and the flavor packet is clearly haphazardly dumped on top for ceremonious purposes. 

“They didn’t have any hot water left for yours, Hijitaka,” Okita drawls, so carefully smug that Kondo can’t berate him for being uppity. “So I just poured some water I found on the ground on it for you and breathed on it to make it hotter.” Kondo gives him a look that clearly says, be patient with him. 

“Thanks,” Hijitaka says. “I’ll be sure to enjoy it for all your hard work.”

[=]

The thing is, Hijitaka knows why Okita has a complex for attention. It isn’t anything as trivial as a growing up phase kind of thing. Okita likes people paying attention to him because he risks losing them if they look away for just a second. Dead people can’t love him in the way someone with blood rushing through their veins with every breath can. His parents died young so he wants something reassuring before death inevitably takes over. He wants his only blood relative remaining, Mitsuba (may she forever rest in peace), to look only at him and cherish him as a brother. He wants the only man to have seen his potential and dragged him away from a life of lonely solitude, Kondo, to look at him and value him as a comrade and an equal. Okita is insecure; he doesn’t believe bonds are strong enough to withstand time and space so he makes sure neither time nor space can get between him and the ones he cares about. He needs to be on stage at all times to do this. 

Of course, it’s totally possible he just loves attention. “Hey,” Okita says, kicking him square in the back. The sudden blow makes Hijitaka jolt forward, wincing in discomfort, and bury his dick deeper in Okita’s ass. The movement draws a breath from Okita’s mouth, silencing him momentarily although a dragging smirk lays itself out on his lips. “Stop zoning out and pay attention to what you’re doing.” 

What Hijitaka doesn’t know is why he is chosen as Okita’s intended target. Certainly receiving affection from Mitsuba and Kondo, Okita’s top two most important people, means childish ire is to be expected, but it doesn’t explain why Okita attacks him in the middle of the night and kisses him until his mouth hurts and gives him blow jobs on the way to the bathroom in the dark. “Earth to Hijitaka,” Okita sings, jabbing Hijitaka’s forehead without restraint. “Can’t you move a little faster? I’m getting soft here. You’ve got terrible technique, you know.”

“If I really showed you my technique,” Hijitaka grunts, barely shifting the speed of his thrusts, “you wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning.”

“Is that so? That sounds like a bunch of bullshit. You’re all talk, honestly.”

In the end, he doesn’t render Okita incapacitated - that would just be rude and too roughhouse for his tastes - but he does shut him up long enough that he can enjoy an afterglow in relative peace. It’s after sex that Hijitaka feels the least like smoking, oddly. Okita isn’t much of a cuddler in any circumstance, but he always stays until the last possible minute. Hijitaka sits up. 

“Hey,” he says. “Why is it that you never bother Kondo, even though it’s obvious that you like him much more than you like me?”

Okita is lying on his back and he still has cum on his stomach, but he peers at Hijitaka from behind his bangs, sticking to his forehead damp with sweat, and leers. “It’s cause I don’t want Kondo to fuck me, stupid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
